The Batman Gotham Needs
by CanaryMoon
Summary: "He isn't the Batman we know, but he's the only one we've got and he's better than none at all." Steph reflects on the new Batman. Oneshot, no pairings.


**B****ackground stuff to know: Set after a certain comic, I don't remember the number but it was around the end of **_**Robin**_**/beginning of **_**Red Robin**_**, when Bruce is dead and Tim is depressed and everything gets dumped on poor old Dick. Anyway, Tim's suiting up, Red Robin-style, after Dick's been badgering him with the whole 'talk to me' routine, and Tim doesn't want to talk, and then Steph starts on about it, and Tim **_**still **_**doesn't want to talk. As Tim's leaving, Steph sneaks up on him in one of his secret hideouts that almost nobody knows about and he kicks her before he realizes who it is, and then he refuses to help her up, and she's all 'talk to me' and he's like 'sry. 2 busy bein emo. g2g.' And then he just ditches.**

**I figure Dick probably had something to do with Steph showing up that night (Tim might even say that, I can't remember), and since he's running the show nowadays, of course she'd run off to report to him the minute she lost track of Tim.**

**Oh, I guess I should say, Dick's Batman but this is before Steph becomes *spoilerific!spoilerific!* Batgirl.**

**I was pretty unsure about posting this, so please be nice! *puppyface* I meant this to be more Dick and Steph thinking about Tim, but it ended up being Steph thinking about Dick. *shrug* Weird. Steph's not really one of my favourite Batman characters, but writing this actually made me like her more. I think she might be a bit like me, which explains both why I like her and why I dislike her.**

I followed Tim until he managed to lose me. He always does. He's still so much better at this stealth thing than me. I don't really know what I would've done if I _hadn't _lost him, but I guess I just wanted to keep an eye on him as long as I could. It wasn't nearly long enough.

I don't really know what I'm doing now, aside from swinging aimlessly from high-rise to high-rise. I should talk to Dick. I should tell him what Tim said. I mean, Dick's the one who's stuck looking after all us lost puppies now, so he should know.

But still… not everything Tim said is completely insane. Don't get me wrong, thinking Bruce is still alive is definitely a little insane. But thinking I betrayed him? That's not. I could say I didn't _mean_ to betray him, I didn't _mean _to hurt him, but I'm not so sure that's true. I'm a superhero. It's my job to protect people, particularly the people of Gotham, and I threw them to the dogs and hurt my sort-of-boyfriend… all to make him better. What kind of logic is that? What kind of person am I?

And now I'm running off to Dick, and I'm sure Tim knows it. How could he not? He's practically a genius. He'll think I'm betraying him again if I tell Dick anything, but it's for his own good. How many times have I told myself that these last months?

Ugh. I need some sleep. My brain feels like it's turning to mush. Okay, Steph, time to take a break on that handy gargoyle over there.

"Hey there, Ugly," I say, alighting on the statue. "Mind if I sit on your head? Thanks." I sit and watch the chaotic night streets below me, thinking that maybe I really do belong in the Bat-family. When did I start talking to gargoyles, anyway? I pull off my hood. I can't be Spoiler right now. Right now I need to be plain old Stephanie Brown, who just got - literally - kicked in the gut by the boy she loves.

The night's as close as it gets to silence here in Gotham. People are yelling, cars are squealing, alarms are ringing; but it's nighttime, when everyone sane is in bed. Only us lunatics are out making noise.

"How is he?" comes a voice behind me. I jump and just about fall off Ugly the Gargoyle's head. Then I realize it's only Dick. Stupid Bats, always popping out of the shadows like that. I mean, doing it to criminals, that's completely acceptable. Doing it to teammates? That's just showing off. Not that Dick showing off is anything new…

"The same," I say, not bothering to turn around. I won't be able to see him in all the shadows up here anyway. I'm kind of hoping my bland answer will be enough for him. When that fails, I pray for a scream, for a siren… heck, I'd might even take the Joker at this point. For something more important than his little brother to come up and steal his attention so I don't have to tell him anything. So I don't have to let Tim down again.

But I forgot. I forgot that to all of us, all of us Bats, all of us superheroes… there _is_ nothing more important. Those of us who actually have real family members left are in the minority, so we cling to our adopted, mismatched, accidental families like they're the only thing keeping us sane. Because they are. And that's why my lame two-word answer isn't good enough for Dick. I don't even think the Joker could keep Dick from getting the truth out of me tonight.

"He kicked me," I blurt, "_hard._" I grimace. My stomach still hurts. So does my butt. Landing on a pile of cardboard boxes is not as comfy as it looks in the movies.

There's a slight _whoosh_ sound and Dick's beside me, sitting on Ugly's brother. "What did you _say_ to him?"

"I actually hadn't said anything yet."

"Well, geez, you oughtta know better than to sneak up on one of us."

One of us. I can't help but wonder, does he include me in that us? Even after all this time, I still feel like the one who doesn't belong.

"I mean, what would _you_ do if someone snuck up on you like that?" Dick's voice sounds so weird coming out of the cowl. Not _wrong_-weird though, just _different_-weird. I can't decide if that scares me or not.

"You just did," I say wryly. Geez, he's just like Tim. How does he know I snuck up on him? I didn't even mention that part. "And I did not kick you."

"True." I can hear the slightest of smiles in his voice. He's definitely not Bruce.

"Besides, what was I supposed to do? Knock on the door and ask if could please come in?" I imagine doing this in my Spoiler costume. Ridiculous is not a strong enough word for the picture that appears in my head. "He probably would've kicked me anyway."

"He would not," Dick says. I hope for his sake that he's not trying to be reassuring, because if he is, it isn't working.

I snort, but still don't look at him. "He wouldn't even help me up." I still think that was pretty low of him, all things considered.

I guess Dick thinks so too, since he doesn't say anything for a long time. Neither do I. Nothing needs to be said, since we know we're both lost in the same sort of thoughts. And every single one starts with 'what if'.

Finally, Dick says, "he left?" He phrases it like a question but it isn't. I can tell he already knows the answer.

"Do you need to ask?" I say, and I'm surprised at the tinge of bitterness in my voice. "I mean, aren't you keeping track of him?"

If he hears the resentment he doesn't let on. "Well, yes," he says reluctantly, "but only because he's letting me. He's too good a detective for me plant any kind of device on him without finding it."

That's interesting. I mean, we all know Tim's the world's greatest detective now that Bruce is gone, but I'm surprised to hear Dick admit it. Then again, we also know that Dick could probably take Tim down if it came to an actual fight. "He…" I stop, asking myself if I really want to be the one to tell Dick this. "Dick, he thinks Bruce is still alive."

Dick sighs, "I know," he says. I've never heard him sound so tired.

He knows. Of course he does. Guess I was worried for nothing. "Do you believe him?" I hate the way I sound tonight - so small and broken.

Dick sweeps the cowl off his head, mussing up his hair in the process. I always find it funny how much alike they all look - Bruce, Dick, Tim, even Damian; they all have the same black hair, the same dark eyes. Lucky for me - I've never been into blonde boys.

In that moment, I know something, and I don't mean that he has nice hair and eyes - I've known that for a while. (Don't tell Babs). I know that Dick isn't ready to be Batman. I suddenly have doubts that he ever will be and I'm cursing Bruce for leaving us too soon.

Dick's face is in his hands and I wonder if he knows what I've just realized. "I want to," he says, his voice sounding even more broken than mine. "I want to believe him. But…"

He doesn't appear to be able to finish, so I do it for him. "You can't."

"No," he manages. "I don't think I can."

I feel the need to be reassuring. Dick's losing it on me and this family really can't take another nervous breakdown. I suddenly find I need Batman as much as Gotham does; as much as Tim, as much as Dick. I want to rush after Tim and tell him I believe him even though I don't. Because everything is falling apart and we need Bruce back.

But Dick and I both know he's not coming. And so we'll have to make do with the next best thing. Richard Grayson isn't the Batman we know, but he's the only one we've got and he's better than none at all.

"So what are you going to do?" I ask steadily. I try to sound steely and hard so he'll get up and get back to work. I need him to put the cowl back on. I need him to tell me I'm doing something wrong and leave me here feeling unsatisfied and slightly bewildered. That's what Bruce would do. And if he can manage it, well, maybe there'll be some hope for Gotham yet.

He looks at me strangely for a minute, like I've confused him. Then his eyes narrow in thought and in one quick, fluid motion, the pointed cowl is back over his head. It really looks quite epic. "My job," he says in a gravelly voice. He stands up, still seeming like part of the gargoyle even though he's moving. "Put your hood on," he adds. Then he leaps from the building.

I swear softly under my breath. He really can _sound_ like Batman when he puts his mind to it. Funny, I always thought Tim was the most like Bruce. And whattaya know? He told me I was doing something wrong.

When he's out of sight, I smile to myself. I know he'll be breaking down again soon enough, but right now…

He's Batman.


End file.
